09/20/2026
The only time I ever regret getting the most bang for my buck with my hay is when I have to move it.
We are preparing to get our fall delivery of hay, and after yesterday's client appointments, it was time for me to face the inevitable demon: my remaining hay bales.
These suckers aren't those really cute little 2-tie rectangles. These are 3-tie, 125- to 130-lb monsters. In order for me to fit these guys in the other part of my barn and make room for the incoming delivery, I had to stack them five high. I had 34 to rearrange. The cussing started before I even moved the first bale.
By the time I got to 15, I was thankful I was the only one around. Things were said, comments were made, and I may or may not have contemplated my life choices in all degrees relating to that exact moment and the reason I was there.
Nonetheless, after some self-pep talks, negotiations, and compromises, I called it a day.
My body woke up this morning with mass amounts of judgment and a debate over whether or not it was going to participate in today's events. I had client appointments, so it didn't have a choice... but it made sure I heard it loud and clear every time I got back in my car.
Pictures—because I always say it didn't happen unless there is proof! Naturally, I got the first picture after I started the process.
